4 March 24 Limericks for Laughs and Learning #2

Limericks for Laughs and Learning

Build a limerick contest (see post – 19 February 24) and they sure do come. Maybe it’s that the prize for the second limerick contest is much fatter than the first take-home win – or rather take-out win. There’s still time to enter your limericks for the second contest. You may even submit multiple limericks as some smarty pants poets did in the first contest. These poet-sleuths noticed that nothing in the contest’s lack of rules ruled out multiple entries. So, pull up those smarty pants and make March your funny bone month. Send in as many limericks as you please. Who knows? We may get enough to post on our blog as a special edition.” Use the traditional form (see 19 Feb 24 post) or break the rules (we’ve done that before) and take a few tips from this post’s content. Email your limerick(s) to catherineastenzel@gmail.com.

BTW, the winner of our first limerick contest is . . . drumroll . . . the Chairman, himself. He an his guest have already collected the prize at the Wannaska eatery, The Fickle Pickle. So, see? The limericks are real and so are the prizes! Get ready. Get set. Go ahead and enter the second limerick contest! This second contest ends at 12:01am on 31 March 2024. Alas, we’ll have to wait two weeks until the 15 April post for announcements of the winner of the second contest. The competition is hot. We gotta tell you: we are fielding some pretty audacious limericks from some no-tongue-in-cheek limerckites! The prize? We ain’t gonna tell you everything. For now, just imagine an evening with another elegant couple at a sorta high class eating establishment.

Where are we?

We kicked off the limerick series extravaganza on 19 February, announced the contest, and are in the thick of picking the fruit from our lovely limerick poets. So, stay tuned and look for inspiration and fun; you may just snag limerickean inspiration and a prize!

Here's what’s coming up over the next several weeks.

        19 February 24: Limericks for funny bones and funny poems 

        4 March 24: Limericks for laughs out loud and erudition to make us proud . . .

        18 March 24: Other Short, Funny Poetic forms you may enjoy and want to try

        1 April 24: The Play’s the Thing — Shakespeare’s short poems

        15 April 24: Limericks = Things Bawdy + Taboo

Note to those who want to leap ahead: Our contest ends before the last two limerick posts are published, ala the Bard and the finale post, “bawdy and taboo.” But don’t let that stop you. Go ahead. Compete with Master WS and/or pull out all your guns and get nasty. You never know; if the first two contests go well, a third contest just might emerge. Butt what would be the appropriate prize? Suggestions welcome.

So, let’s get to it; that is, take a gander at more examples of the art – one from a Church doctor and others from less ethereal heights. After that, we’ll go to limerick high school where we will add to our growing expertise in this small but mighty poetic form.

Who’s on First?

It might be revered Thomas Aquinas.

It's hard to say with certainty who started limericks and why they did so, but we have evidence to suggest that Saint Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274) may have been the first to pen a limerick sometime in the 13th century. His five-line rhyming verse, penned in medieval Latin, survives, and could be the oldest example of this form.

For those unfamiliar with medieval church history, Thomas Aquinas was an Italian monk and one of the most important scholars in the history of the Catholic Church. His collected works, Summa Theologica, contain some extremely profound and influential commentary on theology and religious philosophy.  Many regard Aquinas as one of the 10 or 12 most important philosophers in the Western tradition. Perhaps he is best known for applying the rational philosophy of Aristotle to the tenets of Christianity.

You won’t find his poem in a collection of the world’s most salacious limericks, Its more appropriate resting place is in the Roman Catholic Breviary, a compilation of hymns and prayers. Here is the Saint’s work in original 13th century Latin.

Sit vitiorum meorum evacuatio

Concupiscentae et libidinis exterminatio,

Caritatis et patientiae,

Humilitatis et obedientiae,

Omniumque virtutum augmentatio.

To overcome the language barrier, we have a verbatim translation from Irene Blasé, professor of ancient languages from the University of Chicago.

Let it be for the elimination for my sins,

For the expulsion of desire and lust,

[And] for the increase of charity and patience,

Humility and obedience,

As well as all the virtues.

Well, now, with that we get a much better idea of what Saint Thomas was trying to say, and we learn much about what he felt. Still, it doesn’t sound quite like the limericks that we’re used to reading – if read them one does. Irene B. may have been an expert in Latin, but she was no master of anapest.* (See exploration #2,)

Regardless of your language preference, imagine hearing this poetic morsel being read through clouds of incense, with shafts of light radiating through the stained-glass windows.

What is an authentic limerick?

Let’s define our terms. 

If a limerick is nothing more than a series of five lines with an A-A-B-B-A rhyme scheme, then yes, we have a limerick. But most poets expect a little more from a poetic form. The standard syllable count by line is something like 9-9-6-6-9, with some room for leeway. For example, one might add an extra foot (3 syllables) to lines 1, 2 and 5, just to play around. But some fanatics insist that this only works with strict attention to meter. As far as your limerick(s), have fun. Invent. Go limerick crazy! That means with syllable count, meter, rhyme scheme – the whole catastrophe!

Paramount to the number of syllables, is the meter in which they flow, the rhythm. The metric rhythm of a limerick is something like half of what makes a limerick a limerick. Two meters top the list of rhythms. An anapest meter (Again, see Exploration #2) or a meter that uses amphibrachs (See Exploration #3) make the poem canter along: da-DAH-da da-DAH-da da-DAH-da. Without the characteristic meter, you just have a handful of sentences that happen to rhyme.

Rhyming poetry dates back at least as far as Homer and the ancient Greeks, around the 7th or 8th century B.C.E. But oral traditions that employ rhyming probably go back as far as the stone age. It’s hard to imagine that no one before the 13th century had tried rhyming in A-A-B-B-A, but written records are scant. Apparently, Aquinas’ pious poem provides the oldest known example in writing.

Next, moving from the sublime to the – well, not the ridiculous – but surely a twist of limerickian playfulness far removed from Aquinas’ poem.

The author of the classic Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll, also made great use of limerick poetry, as seen in this limerick

        There was a young lady of station

        "I love man" was her sole exclamation

        But when men cried, "You flatter"

        She replied, "Oh! no matter!

        Isle of Man is the true explanation.

The wonderful thing about limericks is that anyone can write them. The simple rhythm and form are ideal for anyone inclined to write something silly. For instance, Ron Rubin, expert versifier and jazz musician, wrote this one:

        There was an old drunkard of Devon,

        Who died and ascended to Heaven;

        But he cried: 'This is Hades-

        There are no naughty ladies,

        And the pubs are all shut by eleven.

Here's a classic by the most prolific poet of all, Anonymous:

        There was a young lady of Lynn,

        Who was so uncommonly thin

        That when she essayed

        To drink lemonade

        She slipped through the straw and fell in.

And here’s one by Monica Sharman, an editor that most writers can appreciate.

        Relentless, insatiable deadlines!

        This manuscript's still full of red lines.

        First I'll sweat through the edits

        and check all the credits

        then chill with my favorite red wine

Not all poetry is created equally. Edward Lear was known for using this form of poem back in the 1800s. Here’s an example of one he wrote: There was an Old Person of Dean, Who dined on one pea and one bean; For he said, “More than that would make me too fat,” That cautious Old Person of Dean. Limericks are in accentual verse, which means that the construction of a line is determined by the number of accents no matter how many syllables there are. And because the syllables aren’t counted, limericks have a certain flexibility. In limericks, the accents tend to work like this:

• Line 1: 3 accents
• Line 2: 3 accents
• Line 3: 2 accents
• Line 4: 2 accents
• Line 5: 3 accents

Because of this flexibility there are different ways to write limericks; the first line might look something like this: There was once an old man from London. or it might go like this: There was an old man from London. Then a third line could go like so: He rode on a whale or it might work like this: And he rode on a whale. It doesn’t matter which version you use; the result is a pattern of strong, weak, weak. Limericks as Edward Lear used in the 1800s are slightly different from what we know today. Lear often used the fifth line of the limerick as more of a paraphrase of line 1 or 2. He also often used the same word at the end of line 5 as he does at the end of line 1. Or, as is more common in modern limericks, Lear sometimes used the final line as a punchline.

And finally, this Edward Lear limerick example describes an interesting character:

        There was a Young Person of Crete,

        Whose toilette was far from complete;

        She dressed in a sack,

        Spickle-speckled with black,

        That ombliferous person of Crete.

Exploration 1: Are you beginning to favor one kind of limerick over another? If so, what would it be? Explore with your little gray cells to see if you can discover what makes your limerick lick – er’ tick? pick? bick(er)? Could this post possibly be more sick?!

Exploration 2: Go ahead. Let your creative muse have her/his/its way with you. Create an anapest* or two and then use it/them in one of your limerick creations.

* A metrical foot consisting of two unaccented syllables followed by an accented syllable. The words “underfoot” and “overcome” are anapestic.

Exploration 3: Likewise, why not go all out and experiment with the amphibrach poetic meter? Here is the definition of amphibrach as used in English: an accentual-syllabic poetic method this meter touts one stressed syllable bookended by two unstressed syllables. Rarely used, examples of this meter can be found (if you search hard enough) in humorous poetry, and poetry for children. Maybe you would like to take this meter for a spin. Go ahead. Experiment.